The Downpour
by Beloved Discord
Summary: Life is cruel but sometimes salvation is granted. Harry never asked to be in the tournament, he never asked to fall back in time or to fall in love. Salazar only wants to keep him by his side for as long as possible until time runs out. Salazar/Harry
1. Chapter 1

**Summary**: Life is cruel, but sometimes, just sometimes, salvation is granted. Harry never asked to be in the spotlight, in the tournament, and he definitely never asked to fall back in time…or to fall in love. Salazar only wants to keep him by his side for as long as possible until time runs out. Salazar/Harry

**Pairings**: Salazar/Harry

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any of the original Harry Potter characters, plotlines, or ideas that come from J.K Rowling or the copyrighted Harry Potter series.

**A/N:** Trial story

* * *

..

**The Downpour****  
**Chapter 1: Stumbling

..  
Empty streets  
I follow every breath into the night  
The wind so cold  
The sun is frozen  
The world has lost its light

I carry your picture deep in me  
Back to you over 1000 seas  
Back to us  
Don't you lose your trust and your belief  
Just trust me  
..

Loneliness wasn't something that was foreign to him. Far from it, it had always been something that he had been able to recognize since childhood. It was an empty feeling, one that always made him feel hollow and drained. He had never wanted to be alone, and all he had ever wanted as a child was to have parents, to have friends, someone to understand and someone that wouldn't leave him. But as the years had past, no such person had appeared. The Dursleys made sure of that. Even at Hogwarts, he had been cautious, only keeping Hermione and Ron close.

He had thought that it would be easier with fewer people to make friends. It just seemed simpler and more logical that he would be able to confide and to form stronger bonds with a few people than with a crowd. He just wanted to have people that he could trust and would be friends with for life. He thought he had gained all that. He was wrong. Ron had left him and had abandoned three years of friendship within a night. It had hurt. It was an echo of all the Dursleys had ever said to him. He was unwanted. And after Ron had separated himself from him and Hermione, it was as though that loneliness had grown larger even with Hermione at his side.

But right now, he couldn't have been more alone.

He had awoken in a lush forest in the midst of a light rainfall. From the overcast sky, he knew it was still day, but for how much longer though, he didn't know.

"Ah!" he hissed in pain, falling forward and landing hard on his stomach.

So much for trying to stand.

He winced, knowing that he'd have a bruise later, if he didn't have one already. A warm sensation trickled down his back, and the fourteen year old knew right away that it was there where the tail of the horntail had collided with him in midair.

"Not going to do that anytime soon," he said, but it came out hoarse and was followed up by violent coughs that had him falling forwards again and the gash on his back screaming out in protest.

Warm tears fell from his eyes, and he didn't stop them. He was alone after all. No one was here to see. Everything just hurt so much. Where was he even? All his life, and more now especially, he didn't have control. He hadn't asked to be placed with the Dursleys, Merlin no. He hadn't asked to be the boy-who-lived, the one who survived a freak accident just to become one instead, and he had definitely not asked to be entered in a tournament that could kill him. No, he hadn't asked for any of it. No matter what Ron and the others said and thought, he hadn't and didn't want any of it. So why didn't any of them understand?

Life was so cruel.

Right when he thought that he was going to be ok, everything self-destructed on him, yanking him back into a nightmare.

Slowly, Harry crept to shelter underneath the branches of the large tree a few feet ahead of him. He could feel the wet mud underneath his fingernails as he dug into it, using as much force as he could muster in order to pull himself towards the shelter. Every movement disturbed his back and with every small inch forward, small spasms of pain emanated from the source of his escaping blood.

Unwilling whimpers escaped his lips at his slow progress.

His tears blurred his vision, easily mixing in with the rain.

He hadn't really seen it coming. One moment, he had been diving towards the golden egg, straddling his firebolt securely, and the next few moments following were remembered with the sensation of a hot intense pain and then he was free falling. He hadn't taken the angry mother's tail into account once she had been airborne. He had only really seen the unguarded nest of eggs, and he had dived.

It was always the small things that threw you off.

It was the Triwizard Tournament.

It was dangerous.

It was deadly.

Harry gasped, weakly clawing at the wet tree bark to get some leverage in order to lean on his side against the tree. He looked around, green eyes shadowed in pain. Where was he? Even if the horntail had whipped him off into the forbidden forest, someone should've come to get him well before he woke up here. He rubbed his eyes roughly and angrily, not wanting anymore tears to escape. Maybe now they'd be happier that he was gone. He was never meant to be a champion after all.

He laughed bitterly, sitting alone. In pain. In the middle of nowhere. All in the rain. And Ron wanted this?

He had always felt so alone and so unwanted. And though he hated feeling so depreciated, he loathed his existence right now. Why did fate hate him so much? Had he perhaps in a previous life angered her or done something to deserve such a life as the one he now lived as Harry Potter?

He could feel that there were cuts where he had roughly grasped the tree. He didn't know if he had ever felt as helpless as he did now. For how long he stayed there, clinging onto the tree and onto consciousness, he didn't know. What he did know, and would always remember, would be the utter and complete relief he had felt when a sound that wasn't rain or wind that was finally registered with his senses.

"_Must return…cold, very cold now."_

Parseltongue.

But that didn't matter, because now he had communication. He had a distraction from his screaming back.

Harry jolted upright, ignoring the pain as his eyes looked about the clearing for where the hissing was coming from. He didn't care anymore, he only wanted help now, and if it should come from a snake, he didn't care. Screw the wizarding world and its prejudices. He was a parseltongue and he had no obligation to deny a part of who he was just to make them happy. He was fourteen years old, thrown into a situation that he had had no control over whatsoever. He was going to use what he had in order to make it out alive. And then, the wizarding world could just bugger off because he just didn't care anymore.

After all, if they hadn't even bothered to come to get him, it would be up to him to get himself out alive. Again. But this time, his heart clenched, he was totally alone.

He took a deep breath, mustering his strength as he shouted hoarsely, _"PLEASE HELP ME!"_

Silence resounded in his surroundings and Harry panted, out of breath and still exhausted and in pain. Every second, the unyielding pricking coming from his back was a reminder of his dangerous situation. He struggled to catch his breath, all the while listening desperately for an answering hiss or any noise that could indicate someone or something approaching. Several seconds passed in silence with the exception of the rain's pitter patter and his rough breathing breaking the stillness of the air.

And when he was wondering whether or not he should shout again, there appeared in front of him as if whipped out from under an invisibility cloak, a snake. The snake shimmered seemingly out of nowhere, magical silver eyes studying him intensely as each scale darkened from its first transparent and opaque appearance into a healthy glimmering deep black. The serpent looked to be a good six feet or more in length and had risen itself to Harry's eye length, large eyes curious.

The lithe teen gulped, eyes widening in fright. He clearly saw his reaction reflected in the large glassy eyes of the great serpent that was gliding closer to him.

"_Blood," _the female voice hissed, her forked tongue recognizing the scent surrounding the teen immediately.

He sniffed, feeling the deep wound more now that it had been vocalized. _"Please help me," _he pleaded in a whisper. His throat felt so scratchy and sore. Everything just hurt so much, both physically and emotionally. His body, mind and emotions felt all torn up.

He felt so pathetic, not being able to stand and whimpering of all things in the snake language to an unknown serpent that he had met just moments ago.

She had stilled, her forked tongue tasting the air around him. He blinked unsure of what to do as she moved a little closer and her tongue came out again, taking in his scent. Harry was scared to realize that he recognized the emotions coming from the snake from taking in her eyes. She was curious, but more than that, she was almost exuberant with his scent. There was recognition in her eyes.

And that scared him.

She twisted her body around, facing his back, and Harry craned his neck to see that she was observing the large cut, still visible through the wet clothes clinging to his skin, running from his left shoulder down to his lower right side. The blood flow had finally stopped, but Harry was still scared that any immediate movement would open the wound. He stiffened as the snake moved closer, resting her head against his shoulder and, Harry felt his shock grow, nuzzle his cheek in a tender and comforting manner.

"_Stay child, I will return." _

And then she was gone.

As quickly and as indescribably as she had appeared, she had vanished out of his sight. If not for the imprint upon the wet grass, revealing her path away from him, he would've thought she really had dissipated into the air.

And what was stranger than the snake's entrance and exit was the fact that he now felt comforted and secured. It was as though a small weight were lifted off his shoulders. He gripped the tree bark harder, leaning more of his weight against his left side in order to lessen the strain and pressure on his back. He hoped she would return soon. Never before had he been so grateful for the gift that Voldemort had inadvertently left for him on the night of his parent's murder and his condemnation to the life he has lived thus far. But maybe, his eyes searching through the darkening foliage, maybe things could change now.

He didn't want to please everyone anymore. He was too tired, too torn apart.

He just wanted to be Harry.

He closed his eyes, not fighting the exhaustion that overwhelmed him. He would trust in her. She had no reason to lie or betray him, after all he was still alive and she hadn't eaten or bitten him. Not yet anyway.

"_Come back soon."_

There was no response to the silent plea.

He leapt into Morpheus' arms, eager to be carried away from the pain and from the darkening world.

..  
I know somewhere  
We'll find a little place for you and me  
It all turned out a different way  
Can't feel the pulse in our veins  
So weak today  
We'll let our heart beat guide us though the dark  
Just trust me  
..

Strong, muscled legs ran to keep up with the visible serpent ahead of him. He cursed as he was forced to run through bushes where stray thin branches scratched against any exposed skin. The simple black robe he wore were for the better part, ruined, covered in mud and since a few minutes ago, ripped and torn from the rush of the trek that Eris had urgently insisted upon.

That was another thing that he was trying to comprehend while he was being rushed ahead by his familiar. Someone _here _was hurt? Someone that pleaded to her, his familiar, a serpent, for help? It was disconcerting to acknowledge, but would be even more so if left unchecked. And so here he was, following after Eris to where another Parseltongue was.

But the Slytherin family was dead save him. Their family gift only existed presently with him.

So how was it that another existed if he was the last Slytherin?

As he understood, the Parseltongue ability was only hereditary through the Slytherin family. And the muggles hunting the magical community had already made sure that all members of his family line especially had died, save him. His existence was still an anomaly to them, angering the witch-hunters, but at the same time festering fear in them. Anger and fear together were never a good combination; it usually never reaped anything worth delighting over.

He cursed again when the light rain started to come down in a downpour.

"_Eris, are we almost there yet?"_ he panted, already having run at full speed for a good twenty minutes in order to keep up with the agile and quick snake.

The only answer she gave was to slow down. He let out a sigh of relief, slowing as well.

"_Where is he?"_

"_The smell of blood is dominant a few human paces to your right,"_ she hissed, already gliding over to what was the largest tree in the area.

He stilled as his eyes finally registered the small body hunched over and leaning against the great tree.

A strange spark seemed to hit him, and as he staggered over, the very air seemed to be bursting with magic. Eris had been unusually quiet, and even now as she gently and tenderly nuzzled the small figure, she remained silent. He barely registered that each step he took sunk in the mud, or the way the rain was starting to slow. He could only see the small figure slumped there. So fragile and so small.

And so broken.

His forest green eyes struggled in take in all the blood around the small form as he rushed over to where Eris was waiting. Bending down carefully, his breath caught as he finally saw the porcelain face for the first time. Fair, unblemished skin, long black lashes, finely shaped eyebrows, plump rosy lips and a mop of messy raven hair that Salazar saw was already growing past the young boy's shoulders.

It was like a jolt of energy that ran through him as his own magic flared out at his first contact with this small boy.

This boy...Salazar eyes widened at the realization. This boy whose magic, his magic sang for and in return, was sung for. This boy, whose own magic desperately reached to entangle with Salazar's magic as its master's body continued to weaken with every passing moment. This boy...

Salazar rose, clutching the small lithe teen protectively to his chest. The only reason why he wasn't in full panic yet was because he could feel on the other wizard's skin, the teen's magic spreading a protective-like shield against the weather's elements. The nasty cut that Salazar saw and had noted carefully when lifting the boy had already stopped bleeding, and whilst it was still there, the teen's magic was slowly stabilizing the wound. He would heal faster than a muggle, but with some of his potions and medical creams, the boy would heal faster.

"_Eris, will you be making your own way back or will you be apparating with us?" _Salazar asked to where his familiar had moved.

He chuckled as he read the disgust from the great serpent's expression at the mention of the wizarding method of transport. She hissed already moving back through the path they had taken to the area, _"I will be making my own way back."_

She turned to look over at the two again and Salazar paused, anxious to apparate back in order to start with the healing. _"Look after the little one," _she advised and then her scales went opaque as she moved silently through the bushes that he had trampled through to get there.

Without a sound, he flickered out of the wet clearing and past the wards of his manor into a room. A house elf awaited his arrival, having stayed in the same standing position he had left her in ever since he and Eris had left earlier. She started at once at his arrival.

"Master, what can Birdie do to help?" she wringed her hands anxiously as her large eyes registered the smaller and equally wet form clutched close to her master's strong chest.

Salazar cursed mentally, seeing with the lit candles and from the firelight more of the wounds that decorated the young one's body that he couldn't see in the darkened forest. He silently cast a nonverbal drying spell on the both of them before he gently placed the small fragile body onto the bed.

"Gather my healing potions and creams," he didn't even look at her as she disappeared with a small 'pop,' too busy slowly removing the dirty and bloodied robes that the small boy wore. He cursed, the boy was very young. He summoned a pair of his own trousers before shrinking them down to size and switching them with the muddied pair the boy had with a simple spell.

Gently, he turned the smaller body onto his stomach in order to see the damage on the back more clearly. He grimaced, it was a large cut alright, but at least it was a clean cut and not crisscrossed or jagged. It would at the very least, heal quicker.

Birdie reappeared, healing potions and creams floating in front of her carefully. Salazar reached out and grabbed the blood replenishing potion along with the pain relieving potion to administer first. "Birdie, can you turn him around carefully without putting pressure on his back?"

"Of course master!" the elf said determinedly. She was already focusing to hovering the potions and creams within her master's reach as she stretched a bit more of her elf magic in order to gently turn the small form on the bed around, floating him an inch or two above the bed. Salazar sighed in relief in seeing that and tilted the boy's head gently forwards to administer the pain relieving potion first.

The boy whimpered in protest as the liquid was pour into his mouth, but Salazar gently massaged his throat in order to help it go down. Pained green eyes slowly opened in a haze of confusion as another potion was being administered. Salazar paused momentarily to stare, blinking in astonishment at the clear and brilliant colour that was shades lighter and glossier than his own.

After all the potions Salazar wanted were all given to him, Salazar silently urged the boy to turn onto his stomach. Harry, being too tired to speak, his eyes already falling every few seconds or so, obliged with the stranger's request.

And then Harry screamed in agony as the handsome man above him rubbed a cream onto his back and onto his wound.

"Shhh, shhh," Salazar tried to comfort the small boy as he slowed his movements. He was already being as gentle as he could, but he couldn't magically seal the wound until the cream removed any bacteria or infection that had settled within the wound itself first.

Harry whimpered. Oh god, his back was howling in pain as the cream sent stings and sharp pain along with it when in contact with the cut. The dark haired man continued to gently, but quickly move along his back with the cream, and Harry bit his lips in order to hold in the screams that he wanted to release. His lips bled and he couldn't stop the tears escaping his closed lids, no matter how hard he clenched them shut. Finally it seemed the man above him was satisfied and he took a step back, leaving Harry to pant heavily as his back throbbed in despair.

"We have to bandage your back and let the medical cream do its work. I can magically heal your cut within a few hours then. You just have to hold on until then alright?" Salazar signaled Birdie to take the rest of the healing supplies away.

He turned to see if the youth would have questions. He hadn't heard the boy speak a single word; the only sounds he had heard were whimpers and screams of pain. It hurt and pained him that those were the first sounds he heard escaping the boy's mouth, and hoped that now, the boy would have something to say to replace those painful moments.

He was met with green eyes on a face whose expression was one of mixed confusion and fear. Bandages in hand, he slowly approached the boy wondering why the other wasn't answering his question.

Harry shuffled back in fright, "Don't get any closer!" His words came out in short breathy pants.

Salazar stilled. What language was the boy speaking? As he stared at the small shaking form on the bed, he groaned mentally.

This was going to be a problem.

"_We have to bandage your back and let the medical cream do its work. I can magically heal your cut within a few hours then. You just have to hold on until then alright?" _Salazar repeated and watched stunned at the boy's response.

Harry jumped back startled, mouth agape in shock and horror at the familiar snake language that came from another human other than him or Voldemort. He breathing became harsher.

Just where in the world was he?

..  
We have to go 1000 oceans wide  
1000 dark years when time has died  
1000 stars are passing by  
We have to go 1000 oceans wide  
1000 times against an endless tide  
Then we'll be free  
..

* * *

1000 Oceans: Tokio Hotel


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary**: Life is cruel, but sometimes, just sometimes, salvation is granted. Harry never asked to be in the spotlight, in the tournament, and he definitely never asked to fall back in time…or to fall in love. Salazar only wants to keep him by his side for as long as possible until time runs out. Salazar/Harry

**Pairings**: Salazar/Harry

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any of the original Harry Potter characters, plotlines, or ideas that come from J.K Rowling or the copyrighted Harry Potter series.

* * *

..

**The Downpour  
**Chapter 2: Wavering

..  
And you ask me what I want this year  
And I try to make this kind and clear  
Just a chance that maybe we'll find better days  
Cause I don't need boxes wrapped in strings  
And designer love and empty things  
Just a chance that maybe we'll find better days  
..

Salazar was stunned as the boy shrank away from him, brilliant green eyes widening in fright and intense fear. He paused momentarily in his advance, watching and treating the boy carefully as he would a skittish animal. He held up the bandages with both hands, showing the other that he didn't have any weapons. Hopefully, this would give the other indication that he meant no harm.

It seemed to work as some of the hysteria from the green eyes lessened.

Taking a small breath, Salazar took a step forward, but stopped when the boy flinched back. Concerned, he hesitated, "I only want to bandage your back. I'm not going to hurt you."

No response.

There was only confusion and a guarded frown.

The pained-green eyes watched his every movement warily.

As though Salazar was going to strike and attack him.

The man hesitated again before switching over to parseltongue, _"I only want to bandage your back. I'm not going to hurt you."_

Instant reaction.

The smaller male flinched back violently as if hit. Salazar halted, not moving, not knowing what to do.

"_Do you understand me? Eris, my familiar," _Salazar paused, rephrasing his explanation to hopefully calm the skittish boy, _"my, er, serpent familiar, told me that you had requested help from her."_

The Slytherin heir gave a mental sigh of relief as the other seemed to calm somewhat as some recognition ignited in the boy's expressive eyes. At least this time, there was no violent movement to get away from him.

"_Who are you?"_

Salazar blinked at the soft, exhausted voice. The boy's shoulders sagged and his breaths started to come out heavier and quicker. He started to tremble, eyes still impossibly wide, watching Salazar with fright.

"_I could ask you the same little one," _he finally chose to respond, carefully taking another small step forwards. The boy allowed it, still watching his movements warily. Again, Salazar held out the bandages with both arms. This seemed to calm him, the knowledge that Salazar wasn't holding any weapons.

He pushed the implications of that thought aside for now.

"_You don't know who I am?"_ the boy questioned cautiously.

His eyes still watched Salazar's progression intently, studying the taller man and tensing with every small movement the aristocratic man made.

Salazar's brow rose curiously at the boy's choice in words, _"should I?"_

He was responded with near hysterical laughter.

The older male frowned in concern as he took a few more steps forward. The small boy was sobbing now. When he had finally reached the other, he tentatively touched the other's shoulder. It seemed the boy was too exhausted to flinch or to protest, for he just seemed to cry harder, muttering in a language that he couldn't make sense of.

"_Shhh,"_ he awkwardly tried to comfort, patting the boy's shoulder carefully and hesitantly, _"I'm not going to hurt you. Here, let me bandage your back."_ He held out the bandages again for the crying boy to see, desperately hoping that the other's tears would let up. He had never really been good with comforting people, hell he wasn't good with people in general. His home was located in the middle of nowhere, in unplottable land. His only company consisted of family house elves, his familiar, and occasionally one friend that he now only saw rarely. That, in itself should have told others something about his social skills.

"_I-er-well, um, I mean you no harm?"_ he had never, in his nineteen years of life, had been this flustered.

And over a crying boy no less.

"_Please," _oh dear Merlin, his tone was actually bordering upon pleading, _"I only want to help you."_

Salazar held out the bandages again in desperation. The tears that continued to fall and the noises of pain coming from the other panicked him. He waved his hands helplessly and somehow in the next few seconds had managed to tangle his own hands that had been flailing around the boy, desperate to distract the other and thus stop his tears, in the white bandages meant for the other boy's wounds. When he noticed that his arms' movement was being restricted, he stopped, and stared rather owlishly at his two limbs.

He blinked and stared.

His hands were still entangled with the bandages.

Well, that had never happened before.

A rather chocked chuckle met his ears, and he turned his stunned eyes to meet watery green.

Oh Merlin, were they ever green.

He knew there were more pressing matters at hand, but his thought process seemed to have been rendered useless.

With his tears pooling at the edges of those green eyes, Salazar was strongly reminded of lush green grass right after a rainfall. It reminded him of when grass along with nature seemed more alive, rejuvenated after mother nature's downpour of liquid life.

Cautiously, the boy crept closer, eyeing him carefully as he started to slowly reach out with his hand to help untangle Salazar from his predicament.

The older male's cheeks flamed with colour, finally realizing the full result of his flustered actions from before. Oh Merlin, the picture he must make right now.

The other boy's lips twitched as he sniffed, his tears finally stopping as his eyes focused on the task before him. Salazar held still, surprised at the intensity the younger boy was showing in aiding him. When he was finally out of the mess he had created for himself, the green eyed boy immediately backed away, but still kept his eyes trained on the other man.

Salazar offered him a small smile, _"my thanks, little one,"_ he hissed softly.

The other blinked, as if surprised. Flushing, he nodded, and then hesitantly he voiced, _"my back?"_

The elder man jumped, of course, the boy's injury must've been hurting him all this time. A stab of guilt pierced through him, and because of his stupidity, the boy had made unnecessary movement that could have and most likely had already disturbed and irritated the raw injury. He cursed himself and advanced slowly towards where the other was still watching, biting his lip nervously.

"_I apologize for my actions causing your injury further harm," _Salazar said with worry, _"may I see it for a moment to see if it needs to be treated again before bandaging?" _

The boy's hesitation was less prolonged than it had been originally, the last Slytherin noted with a relieved smile. With a small nod, the small raven haired boy turned for his back to face Salazar.

"_Thank you,"_ was the small, shy whisper. And then the small form shivered as though feeling the elder male's scrutinizing gaze upon his skin.

Salazar's eyes softened at the fragile voice. It was so full of gratefulness, yet it still held an edge of fear and caution, as though ready to be hurt again.

"_I won't hurt you,"_ he whispered gently in a soft hiss as he bent down to see the wound more clearly.

The small boy shivered again, and his shoulders shook with emotion. Concerned, the elder male asked, _"are you in pain?"_

Facing the other's back, he only saw the response through the slow movement of the boy's head indicating a negative response. Salazar frowned, noting that the injury had miraculously stayed closed through all the child's movements, _"it didn't reopen. I'm going to bandage it now." _Pausing, he touched the top of the child's head gently, trying to push away his sadness at the other's answering flinch from his touch, _"it will cause some discomfort, but please bear it for a little bit longer."_

"_O-okay," _was the stuttered reply.

Though the other couldn't see, Salazar smiled softly at him. And even though the situation was in no way calming, that was how he felt as he carefully worked in bandaging the other's wounds. The other boy's presence, just being near, was soothing his usually volatile magic and emotions.

Neither spoke a word as Salazar completed his task. The small raven haired boy stayed still the entire time, almost eerily so through the entire procedure.

When the elder was finished, he stepped back, albeit with a small amount of hesitation.

"_I've finished now, would you like a sleeping draught? The healing balm is slightly painful when working, and rest would help to accelerate the healing process," _he watched the boy cautiously. Though he was slowly relaxing to the use of parseltongue, occasionally, like now, the smaller male would flinch at the hisses coming from him.

He pushed his growing curiousity and concern aside. Questions and answers could both be brought up later once the other was healed. What mattered most at that moment was to make sure that the little one was healing healthily and was comfortable.

Green eyes locked with eyes and Salazar held still as he felt the other's gaze searching for something. The child gave a small nod, and continued to watch the other snake speaker as he moved over to procure the sleeping draught. Grabbing the fur blankets around him, the boy covered himself with them, and Salazar fought against a growing smile, seeing the embarrassed flush the other sported as he tried to cover himself.

The elder male chuckled and the other's face reddened further, ducking his head to hide the colour that exposed his feelings of vulnerability.

He handed the small pale hand the potion and watched curiously as the child scrunched up his noise endearingly before closing his eyes tightly and necking the entire vial in one swift movement. His brow rose in astonishment and amusement while taking the empty vial back.

"_Thank you,"_ the green eyes dropped with drowsiness.

Salazar chuckled softly, _"it was no problem, little one."_ He gently helped to maneuver the boy onto his stomach, and then proceeded to carefully cover the small form with his furs. Glancing over at the fire, he noted to himself that it could use another log or two thrown in before turning to face the boy that was fighting against the sleeping draught, sleepy and hazy green eyes watching him. There wasn't much wariness and instead, the green depths seemed to be overpowered with curiousity and, dare he hope it, trust.

It was rather overwhelming, he had to admit.

He offered the little one a comforting smile, trying to will the other through the gesture that he wasn't going to hurt him. _"Stop being so stubborn, let the sleeping draught do its work,"_ he whispered soothingly, _"I will watch over you through the night. Nothing will hurt you here."_

It was impossible to fight against the urge to reassure and protect the small boy. Not that he tried to fight it. His magic hummed in agreement, having already since first contact, entangled itself quite happily with the smaller male's magic. Feeling his magic and the other's magic together sent a warm sensation through him. It was so comfortable, so right.

It was peaceful, he realized.

It was like finding himself again after losing all sanity. Like fitting the first puzzle pieces together amid the surrounding thousands.

It was warm.

He stroked the boy's silky hair, soothing him into sleep. And in the little one's lethargic state, one small hand reached out aimlessly to grasp his robe tightly.

Green eyes struggled fruitlessly to stay open, and the elder grinned in amusement. For one so little, he had a large amount of will power and stubbornness. Almost unconsciously, he started humming an old lullaby, one he hadn't sung or heard since his family's deaths. A small smiled played in both occupant's lips within the warm room.

And before the green eyes closed into sleep, the boy whispered in a small hiss, _"Harry, my name's Harry."_

And then Harry's eyes closed, his grip relaxing its hold on the robes of the elder male as he fell into another fit of sleep. Harry never did see the stunning smile that answered the admission of his name. Nor did the small teen feel the hand he had used to clutch onto his savoir being raised before lips gently caressed his bruised knuckles with reverence.

"Harry…" Salazar muttered, not even noticing that he had switched over from the snake language over to the human tongue. His fingers combed through the black locks, stroking them calmly as he watched with contemplation, the relaxed face of the small boy that was deep in slumber.

..  
So take these words  
And sing out loud  
Cause everyone is forgiven now  
Cause tonight's the night the world begins again  
..

Harry's eyes snapped open with a scream.

Immediately, arms wrapped around his shoulders securely to steady him as he got his breathing under control. Eyes open wide, the fourteen-year-old stared unseeingly ahead of him as flashes of what he dearly hoped was only a dream, flew across his vision.

Giant snake, Wormtail, and, Harry's stomach lurched, the small ominous bundle that the traitor held.

Harry shuddered, not wanting to acknowledge what his subconscious was screaming at him to accept. Because, the teen breathed heavily, that would mean accepting the reality of his life.

"_Harry?"_

At the sound of the hiss, Harry jerked back violently with a sharp gasp, eyes wide with terror. His breaths were coming in shorter and shorter as he felt real panic settling in.

Where was he?

Oh Merlin, it was so dark. His breathing picked up and he moved back, away from the looming dark frame that was blocking his view of any light.

Of any escape.

He trembled as his fight or flight response flared into life.

"_Harry?"_ the hiss came again, but this time hesitant, cautious. _"You had a nightmare, little one."_

And then, the dark frame moved to the side, and the light of the fire flickered into Harry's view, revealing the room and the one that had spoken the snake language. His vision registered the eyes first, the concern. He didn't see any malice there, no, no malice. His eyes swept the rest of the man's features, noting that the man was remaining still while he was busy scrutinizing him. Harry felt his breathing slowly coming back to normal as the other man made no sudden movements to advance on him.

His green eyes swept across the handsome features of the aristocratic face, the unkempt black hair that fell messily like his own past the stranger's shoulders, the tired but alert eyes, and then Harry's eyes lit up in recognition as he stared down at the man's raised hands signaling that he didn't have any weapons.

That he meant no harm.

And just like that, that image and thought triggered his memories of the past few hours before he had awoken.

The Triwizard Tournament, the Horntail, the serpent, the forest, and then…here.

Harry's shoulder's relaxed, and the stranger, seeing this, took a cautious step forwards, lips open to speak before closing with a snap, eyes wary that Harry would react violently again to the sound of parseltongue.

Harry felt his cheeks flood with heat. What a way to treat someone who had only helped him so far. He felt thoroughly embarrassed from his actions.

"_S-sorry,"_ he stuttered with the snake language, having never really used it since second year. He pushed away the pain he felt when the memory of him, Ron and Hermione arose during that particular adventure. He forced himself to take deep breaths, trying earnestly to calm himself further.

A cautious hand touched his shoulder and Harry jerked in surprise, only just keeping a yelp from leaving his lips. He flushed again at the concerned gaze the elder man was giving him, _"sorry." _And then he cursed himself silently as he realized that since awakening, apologizing was all he had been doing in terms of communication. More heat flooded his cheeks.

"_I…"_ and Harry trailed off helplessly, not knowing what to say. How to explain what had happened. What did he have to explain?

The small teen peeked up through his lashes to see the elder man's reaction, and then blinked when he realized that the other probably wasn't much more than a few years older than his fellow Triwizard competitors. And for reasons that he couldn't comprehend, his receding flush came back with a vengeance.

The older male chuckled, his warm forest green eyes peering at Harry in return with amusement and affection. Harry blinked and looked away, not knowing why he was so flushed and embarrassed with other man.

"_How is your back little one?"_

"_Not little,"_ Harry muttered petulantly, closing his eyes with a frown and trying to feel whether or not he was in pain. Now that he was paying attention and was actually searching, he did feel the stinging sensation from his back. "Ow," he winced, opening his eyes again.

"_I may not understand your language, but I'm sure that expression was one to signify pain or discomfort," _the man said wryly.

Harry blinked owlishly, remembering again events from before. The language barrier…that's right. And the reason for their conversations consisting entirely of parseltongue.

The small teen gasped in remembrance as his eyes pierced the surprised man who had returned to his seat next to the bed. _"Who are you?"_ he echoed his first words to the man. After all, he never did get his answer. Who was this stranger who possessed the ability of the snake language? The ability that as far as he knew, was only possessed by him and Voldemort.

Harry held his breath as the man opened his mouth to answer. The stranger watched him intently, a bit wary at the intensity of Harry's expectant gaze, _"Salazar, Salazar Slytherin."_

Harry blinked.

His mouth opened.

Then closed.

Harry stared.

"_Is there something wrong?"_ the man, Salazar, asked, watching him cautiously.

Harry swallowed. He guessed that from his past actions, at least as far as this man had seen, he had been rather skittish and jumpy. But, that name, it just couldn't be.

He brought disbelieving eyes to the man again. The man tilted his head in question, lips in a frown. Harry studied him intently, brows scrunching up in concentration as he looked closer at the man's features. There was some resemblance to the sixteen year old Voldemort, the diary form of Tom Riddle, Harry acknowledged, but that didn't prove that this stranger was telling the truth.

It was impossible.

It just wasn't possible.

It couldn't be.

Then, Harry stared with impossibly wide eyes, then why was it that his gut, his very being was screaming out at him to trust this man, to recognize that the stranger was telling the truth.

His instincts had never lied before; it had been what kept him alive for so long shortly after arriving in the wizarding world.

But oh Merlin, this couldn't be true could it?

It was much too far-fetched, even in magical terms.

His eyes swept across the room desperately looking for something, anything that would prove this to be a lie. But with every passing moment, his eyes failed to see anything that resembled products or evidence of the modern time or age. His eyes only found candles, a fire, robes, furniture that he had only seen in antique stores or in museums, but in here they looked new, and they looked perfect for the setting. Oh Merlin, his gasped as his eyes registered the man again.

This just couldn't be possible.

"_Harry?"_ Salazar was growing concerned. Why had his name caused such a reaction from the boy? The boy's wide eyes stared at him in disbelief and horror, as though he were an apparition or an evil spirit. The last Slytherin frowned, _"Harry, what's wrong?"_

But Harry didn't answer, only continuing to stare at him, at the room and at the furs, before returning to stare at him again, all with the same eerie stare that was pleading, scared and horrified.

"A dream, this is all a dream," Harry mumbled before laughing with a little hysteria, "Horntail hit me harder than I thought. All a dream." He muttered the mantra to himself, trying and failing to make himself believe his words. He closed his eyes tightly and repeated the mantra, not daring to open his eyes because everytime he stared at an object, at the room, at the very man before him, his resolve wavered.

Salazar was growing alarmed now as Harry curled into himself, all the while muttering in that strange language. He cursed, feeling frustrated over his incomprehension of the strange language that the shaking boy before him was muttering.

He reached over to touch the child, and promptly jumped back with a yelp as Eris materialized in her usual manner before him. She spared him an amused glance before nuzzling the small form that was still shaking in what Salazar now recognized as shock and terror.

"_Harry,"_ the man pleaded, kneeling down on the ground. He was silently thankful that his stern father wasn't here to witness this, and then quickly felt guilt from even thinking such a thing.

"_Little one,"_ the large serpent hissed soothingly, and the boy responded, hazy eyes looking up to stare into her large silver ones.

Harry looked up when a voice other than Salazar's spoke, to stare again at the great serpent that had brought the man to his rescue, the man claiming to be Salazar Slytherin.

Salazar Slytherin, a historical figure that had lived and died more than a millennia ago.

He breathed in deeply, eyes flickering between Salazar and Eris.

"_Where am I?"_ he choked.

"_In my home,"_ Salazar replied immediately, holding himself back from touching the teen. He felt pained when he saw that Harry shrunk away when he spoke, as though his voice repulsed the little one.

Harry shook his head. That wasn't the answer he wanted, wasn't the answer that would explain this.

Whatever the bloody hell this was.

Eris laughed in hisses, startling the two humans, and disturbing Harry greatly.

"_You are where you are supposed to be little champion."_

Harry's eyes widened in shock as the serpent uncurled from her position on the bed to reveal a golden egg.

The golden egg.

The dragon.

The golden egg.

The fourteen year old wavered, and then promptly fell back in a dead faint, not hearing the startled call of his name from Salazar or the amused hissing laughter from the vanishing serpent.

He fell into darkness once again.

..  
I need someplace simple where we could live  
And something only you can give  
And thats faith and trust and peace while we're alive  
And the one poor child who saved this world  
And there's 10 million more who probably could  
If we all just stopped and said a prayer for them

So take these words  
And sing out loud  
Cause everyone is forgiven now  
Cause tonight's the night the world begins again  
..

* * *

Better Days: Goo Goo Dolls


End file.
